GATE: A New Front
by Crutz
Summary: The year is 1940, war is nearing in Europe, the German war machine building to unimaginable heights. This is all halted, however briefly, by the opening of a gate in Berlin. Unknown attackers came from beyond and dared strike the Reich. They were fought back, chased out by the German military. Though, the Germans may have found more than they bargained for in this new land.
1. Prologue - Assault

\- 1940. Berlin, Germany -

Armin Mattias, an SS-Sturmmann in the SS Honor Guard of the Reichstag. He was 29 and devoted to the Fuhrer and everything he said. This man would do almost anything, should it be asked of him. He was like many others, devoted to the man that brought them honor and saved them from the depression they were left in. Now, he stood to watch in the damaged building. The Reichstag was rarely, if ever, used by this point, and stood more as a prized building instead of a government building. It was a stamp of history, how Germany was once ruled. The only reason it still stood was simply because it was a monument, so to speak. Hence the Honor Guard, S.S. soldiers ordered to defend the building against anything from simple robbers to the virtually impossible attack against Berlin itself. Most of them knew this, but this didn't change the fact that they would stay here and died if it was asked of them. Many of them never expected combat. This thought was, however, proven wrong come January of 1940. A meager three blocks from the great building, a gate appeared, virtually from nowhere. From within came an attack they believed impossible. An army attacked, striking the people of Germany. Before the Honor Guard even knew what was happening, the enemy was at their doorstep.

...

The MG-34 continued to roar as it sprayed down the steps of the Reichstag. It tore into the enemy, killing them with ease. They were, however, just replaced by another, and the MG-34 simply did not have that much ammo. This was the only one they had, due to the fact no one expected this. Armin popped out from cover, firing down the stairs with his Karabiner 98k. He didn't know if he hit anything, but it didn't matter. Just as long as he kept them down, he was doing his job. The highest ranking officer ordered Armin, among others, to hold the enemy off as long as possible before retreating. Everyone else was setting up in the main entry hall. The Honor Guard in the building at the time of the attack was under 50, Armin guessed 40, or so. Their enemy greatly outnumbered them, but something was... off. They were not armed with guns, much like their other foes. Instead, they had swords and bows. Such objects had little hope of getting close to their rifles without numbers. Sadly, they had numbers, and the Honor Guard were low on ammo. Armin fired the last round from his magazine. He took a knee, grabbing for another. Just his luck, that was his last magazine. He didn't have to go far, though, to get more ammo. While the enemy was armed with bows, that did not mean they were incapable of killing the SS. They had killed two, injured a third soldier. Armin dropped his rifle, taking a fallen soldier's Karabiner.

"Sorry, friend. I'll send my condolences to your wife..." He poked his head out again, firing. He saw this round, taking a certain pleasure in seeing one of the enemy soldiers falling backward. Finally, the MG-34 fell silent. The SS-Rottenfuhrer pulled out a whistle, blowing on it.

"Fall back! Fall back!" He yelled, waving everyone to the door. The MG man and his loader picked up the '34, quickly running in. Those closest moved is, while those furthest gave covering fire. Armin and another soldier ran back to the door. Unluckily for the other soldier, though, his lucky number was up. an arrow whistled through the air and drove into the left side of his neck. He gave a gurgled cry, falling to the ground. Armin jumped over his fallen body, and through the door. The last soldier made his way in, and the doors were closed. They quickly barricaded it was tables or anything in reach. The Rottenfuhrer took the lead, taking everyone to the main entry hall. It was a grand room with a dual staircase looping around to a door that entered into the main meeting room. The highest ranked officer put everyone into position, the remaining 36, two of which were injured, prepared for combat. The '34 was reloaded and put at the top of the stairs, where they met and went to the main hall. They could hear loud crashes, repeated over and over as the enemy tried to crash through the door and into the building. Armin was next to the machine gunners, watching over the room. A minute passed as they slammed on, but it felt like an hour. The tension was high as the men grew anxious. Their foe, with their superior numbers, could smash the remaining guard to smithereens if they so felt. Armin looked left to the loader of the MG. He held a cross to his mouth, whispering hurriedly.

"Dear lord, let us see the end of this day. Please allow us to push back these slaughterers of the innocent and avenge them. Please allow us to serve the Fuhrer to best of our abilities... Ame-" A deafening crash filled the building, fear entering all their hearts again. They could hear cries, war cries. The enemy was here, and the remaining guard prepared. It didn't take long, the route from the main door to the entry hall was pretty direct. The moment the first hostile past the door, bullets began to fly. Armin flinched as the MG-34 roared back to life, shredding the hostiles down below. It was a blood bath, bodies piling on bodies. Limbs and viscera flying every which way. Cries of war turned to cries of anguish as they were slaughtered. The slaughter didn't end there, alas, the Honor Guard still held another trick up its sleeve. When the MG stopped firing to reload, two more soldeirs moved up. They were armed with flame throwers. Some of the reserves had fallen back, bringing the deadly weapon. Before any foe could get fire, jets of flame flew out over the door. Screams came, men flailing to try and put themselves out. It was a horrifying sight, but a necessary one. This was for the people of the Reich, for Germany, for the Fuhrer!

The MG fell down to its last belt, the flame throwers were out, and they were almost out of rifle and SMG rounds. The enemy seemingly didn;t end, still throwing themselves endlessly at the slaughter pit. Up to this point, they had found no other way around to reach the upper area. Armin now leaned against a pile of sandbags placed at the stairs. His rifle was out, the only thing had now was a Luger handgun. The MG burst out rounds as rifles continued to put down others, but the enemy was gradually making their way in. The front line pulled back to the second, and then to the third. Now the men were beginning to retreat up the stairs. They were down to 27 now, and very limited in ammo. The 27 Honor Guard were falling back to the 10 reserves waiting. They were only armed with Karabiner 98ks, as well, so they could only fight for so long. The senior officer waved his gun, barking an order. He stood on the other side of Armin, his own empty MP-38 laying forgotten.

"Fall back, fall bac-" An arrow flew from across the room, hitting the man square in the chest. He flew backward, falling flat on his back. Armin leaped up, quickly returning fire. He didn't even check if he hit anything, just sliding to the man's side. Armin knelt by his commander, who grabbed his shoulder. The man let out a heavy cough, blood spurting from his mouth.

"A-Armin? Armin, boy... Go... Get your..." He coughed heavily, trying to sit up. Armin instantly pushed him down.

"Sir lay down! You're hit! you need a medic! MEDIC!" He yelled, looking around frantically. The man, however, was having none of that. He grabbed Armin by the collar with his other hand, pulling back around.

"Boy, I'm dead. Go... Fall back and leave me!" He let out, before falling back, his breathing labored. Armin, bound by his oath to follow orders of his superiors, nodded.

"Yes, sir." He stood up, grabbing the officer's whistle. He looked at it, the markings of the SS insignia etched into its side. He put it in his mouth, blowing as hard as he could.

"Full retreat! Full retreat!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. The men didn;t question it, and didn;t complain. They turned and ran. This was, however, their unlucky moment, as doors on either side of the stairs burst open, more foes flooding in. They cut off the bulk of the remaining Honor Guard. Only 15 would be able to get to the door without trouble. The rest were trapped. The MG men struggled to bring the gun up, the belt getting caught. One of the enemy soldiers ran, sword arm readying the run one of the through. Armin was faster, however. He brought the Luger up, putting a round in the man's arm and chest. He hit the railing, sliding down. He was dead and gave the machine gunners time to get the gun free. They all retreated, closing the last set of doors to the main hall. The reserves were waiting, downright terrified.

"What happened?! Where is the Sturnscharfuhrer?!" One demanded, running around the group, looking at the battered and exhausted Honor Guard.

"Dead. they got him..." Armin said plainly, limping to a place he could sit. Disbelief filled the younger man's face, but he knew it was the truth. The Honor Guard just sat down, laid down, or leaned against a wall. They were a meager 25 strong, armed with half a belt of MG ammo, a few rifles, and a couple MG-38s. In the backroom hid several civilians, children, the elderly and women.

"You... You aren't giving up, are you?" The man asked Armin. The soldier merely leaned back, letting his head rest. The man gained no answer, and realized the worst; the Honor Guard's moral was broken. They were wiped out, out of ammo, battered and without a leader.

"We... We're all dead..." The man murmured, his eyes wide, all the color leaving his face. Some of the reserve soldiers were trying to barricade the door, which began to shake as the enemy attempted to force their way in. Heavy slams shook the frame of the door. The man dropped to his knees.

"No... Nonononono... NO!" He cried, his head in his hands.

"I don't want to die!" One of the Honor Guard stood up.

"Stop crying, you sniveling coward! Don't you think we are scared, too?! If you want to cry, go back there with the civilians, and stop bothering us!"

"What are you talking about?! You've given up!"

"At least we have enough fucking honor to face out death, not curling up into a ball, begging god to save us!" The argument grew more heated as Armin's clouded brain fought to make him move. Exhaustion filled every inch of his body, from head to toe. He didn't want to move, to fight, he just wanted to rest. However, he could not.

He had to do what was right. The man's eyes shot open, looking up towards the ceiling of the great building.

"- while we were fighting?!"

"Staying back here, protecting the innocent, LIKE WE WERE ORDERED TO!"

"ENOUGH!" Armin yelled, already on his feet. The whole room fell silent, exclueding the banding outside the door. Armin used the momentary silence to gather his thoughts, then began. He pointed to the reserve trooper complaining.

"You! You want to follow orders so badly?! Help the MG men set up on the podium, protect THEM at all costs." He pointed to two Honor guard, two of the best shots of the group.

"You two, take some scopes and go up into the balcony." He motioned to everyone else.

"Everyone else, find cover. If you don;t have a gun or ammo, there are some in the back! Every able bodied man fights, no matter what!" The silence came, everyone still looking at him in shock. The complainer gave him an insolent look.

"Who put you in charge?" This was answered by one of the other Honor Guard, who hit the younger man in the back of the head.

"You heard him, move it!" The older soldier barked. They would need compliance and order to win this fight or to at least survive. The group of soldiers quickly set up. Men and the older boys, at least 16, were also armed with rifles. Everyone was set up either high up or in the back. The door began to crack as it was torn to shreds by the oncoming horde.

"No one fire until the '34 is out! We have to maximize the effectiveness of what we have left! We are the last line between the innocent and our aggressors! Do not falter, do not surrender! Woman and children, unable to defend themselves lie upon us! For the Fatherland! For the Fuhrer!" The Honor Guard gave cheers, along with the reserves and the armed civilians. The door finally blew open, splinters flying everywhere. Like before, those in front were met with the fully automatic '34. The gun sprayed dwon from the head podium, tearing them apart. Soldeirs fell over eachother, trying to get past the hail of bullets. This lasted for about ten seconds, then the gunner yelled.

"I'm out!"

"OPEN FIRE!" Armin yelled, and the machien gun fire was replaced by the MP-38s and Karabiner 98ks. Armin put down several hostiles, but this was not enough. The enemy made their way to the back bleachers, spreading out. This made it harder to take them out individually. However, the enemy attack came to a fatal point, as they passed beneath the snipers. The two men dropped their grenades dwon on them, blowing holes in the attackers. They then just began dropping bricks, bleachers, and other pieces of rubble down. The front lines retreated under the cover of the second one. Sadly, the Karabiner was not designed in pumping rounds very fast, more on accuracy. This showed as the untrained civilians and undertrained reserves didn;t fire even half as fast as the Honor Guard. They had only two more MP-38s, which simply didn't have enough stopping power or a high enough fire rate to make much difference. The enemy made it about half way down the bleachers. They had tried formations remincent of those that Romans were thought to have used, but their shields were no match for rifles. No, they moved cover to cover, learning that being picked out by these magical weapons was a death scentence. When the first 'I'm out!' was heard, Armin knew that they were running out a time. Mere minutes later, most of the soldiers and civilians were out of ammounition, hanging back and watching the approaching death. They had no bayonets, so the only way they could fight would be hand to hand, something most of them were not trained to do. Evem the Honor Guard would have trouble, as the enemy used swords, adn they had blunt istruments or daggers. Volleys of arrow bared down on those at the podium. One of the reserve soldiers went down, his rifle taken up by one of the Honor Guard. Armin's own rifel clicked, signally he was finally finished. He threw it down, drawing his Luger. One of the enemies climbed up the stand, only to be shot down by that very gun.

"Fight to the last!" He yelled, taking out his dagger. The remaining grenades were lobbed over the podium, into the gallery. The resulting explosions were very effective, but not enough. Many of the men resolved to death, but were prepared. They would die for those who could not fight, and die well. Everyone was out, all pushed back to the door. Armin held up his dagger.

"This is where we die! take as many down with you as you can! For the Fuhrer!" They all cheered as the Imperials closed in. One Imperial rushed Amrin, he ducked away from his chop. The soldier ran his dagger into the man's neck, kicking him away. Another tried, only to get bashed in the face by the stock of a rifle. The bigger Honor Guard grabebd the man's sword, slashing it through a second. Armin saw, far on the otherside of the room, the grey uniforms of the reserves. The cavalry was here, and they had ammo. Machine guns roared to life, mowing down all stll not on the stage. Those on the stage realized their situation. One, who had been trying to attack Armin realized this quickly, throwing down his weapon in an act of surrender. Once one did this, they all did. Upon their surrender, the day was won for the Reich. The reserves quickly spread out, detaining the aggressers, taking them somehwere Armin did not care to ask. He was tired, so, unblievably tired. The officer of the reserves stepped forward.

"Who is in command here?" Armin blinked his eyes back open, looking around. He found that everyone was looking at him. Taht was all Armin saw, though. He fell forwards, passing out from exhaustion.

\- Two Weeks Later -

Two weeks after the initial attack, Berlin was healing. The gate that the enemy had come from was now surrounded and under watch by the Reserves, and several MGs and tanks. However, today was a time of celebration. The 14 remaining Honor Guard, 7 remainig reserve defenders, and the 5 surviving armed civilians were awarded all they could be at their current rank. This was done by the Fuhrer himself, Adolf Hitler.

"The 1st Honor Guard of the Reichstag! You defended your father land from invaders to the last, losing many good men in the process. You have brought honor to yourselves and and the Reich as a whole. I am honored to present you with the title of 'Heros of Berlin'!" Cheers filled the area, applause following. Arminw as beaming, him and his allies. They were recognised by the Fuhrer, a man they had devoted their lives to, as heroes. It only got better from there, though.

\- The office of the Fuhrer, moved to Leipzig -

"Herr Armin Mattias, it has come to my attention that, upon the death of your officer, and all the other soldiers present, you took command. is this true?" Armin stood in the office of his Fuhrer, among other high level officials.

"Yes, sir."

"In the Reichstag, we expect regualr acts of bravery and loyalty. What you have done, however, is beyond that. Tell me, have you heard of what the Reich intends to do witht he Gate?"

"Only that we are going beyond the Gate, into the new lands, sir."

"Hmm... Tell me, Herr Mattias, do you want to go there?"

"Sir? I guess so."

"I don't want to know if you guess so, do you want to?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, this fits perfectly, then." The Fuhrer snapped his fingers, a folder being placed in his hand.

"You, the remaining Honor Guard, and a few other SS soldiers will be sent to the other side to represent the SS in the new world." Armin accepted the folder, shock on his face.

"We will be the only SS there?!"

"No, no. More SS soldiers will be deployed, but you will be there as the SS in a political sense."

"But... sir! I am only a Sturmmann-"

"Ah, yes. that rank if not fitting for someone who is so natural in command... Perhaps an Obersturmfuhrer?" Armin gapped, shock filling his face.

"O-Obersturmfuhrer?!"

"Oh, is that not acceptable? Perhaps that is too low... Very well. Hauptsturmfuhrer Armin Mattais, you are now in command of the recently established the 1st SS Armoured Politcal Envoy." he offered his ahnd to the stunned Armin, who took his leaders hand eagerly. As they came to an agreement, tanks, soldiers and vehicles prepared to march on into the new lands, to set up an explore...

And get the revenge the people so desired.


	2. Chapter 1 - 1st SS

\- Illian Hill, New Berlin Fort -

Illian Hill, a great, religious place where it was believed the goddess of madness, Hardy, was born. However, today, it was the battleground between the forces of the Empire and the forces of Germany. On the other side of the Gate, the empire was surprised as massive Panzers and dozens of mages with staffs of thunder charged. They were slaughtered, none of those in the front able to get away fast enough. The main group had been gone for almost three weeks, and it was clear that they would not be coming back. The remaining Imperials went into full retreat, much to their relief, they weren't followed. Unannounced to them, their newfound foe was simply needing to ready for fighting. A perimeter was set up, tanks and soldiers getting into easily defendable positions. Estimates cropped up that they had, at best, a month until the enemy was prepared to attack again. These calculations were based on technology, numbers and moral of the captured soldiers. The statistics had room for about two weeks. The German soldiers quickly dug trenches, laid mines, built up pillboxes, amongst other defensive buildings. Heavy artillery guns, AT guns, and mixed weapons were brought over, placed for optimal effectiveness. From the gate arrived the new commander of the New Berlin Fort, Generalmajor Rudolf Jost of the Heer. His car arrived, met by an officer. As the General stepped from his car, the soldier saluted. He handed Jost a clipboard, who took it with little care.

"How many did we lose in the counter attack?"

"Six, sir. One was friendly fire." The General scoffed, disbelief mixing with amusement.

"Then, our enemy is weaker than we thought. I don't know how 1,000 people died in Berlin. Perhaps training is necessary for the reserves?"

"Sir, it was an ambush, they were not prep-"

"I know, Major, I was just making a point." He handed the clipboard back as he came to a table with a map. The map showcased the place they were and the surrounding land. They were on a large hill with only one gradual slope up. The rest of the surrounding hill was sheer rock faces. Impossible for anything substantial to climb up, but fenced all the same. They knew not of the military capabilities of their foe, though, so far it was rather disappointing. Even so, he had to prepare for anything. This place had already proven to be... mystical. That is not just because of the dragons that were resistant to even .50 caliber guns. No, there were reports from eye witnesses that the foe seems to have a weapon capable of destroying tanks, as a Panzer III met an unfortunate end by one such weapon. Currently, one of these AT soldiers was being interrogated by the Gestapo over the secrets of such power. One thing that surprised him was what High Command sent him to command. they weren't just simple tanks and soldiers. He was sent the best of the SS, Wehrmacht, and of the tanks. He had even been sent the prototype Stug III, which there were only a few of. It seemed that the Fuhrer and his higher up lackeys were greatly overestimating this foe. That aside, he wasn't complaining about them. These weapons would make his life easy, and make his paycheck come faster. The captured enemy soldiers were brought back to the other side to be interrogated, the Gestapo would have their hands full for some time.

"Herr General!" A voice called from across the road. The General turned around, seeing the Major walking over with another soldier. He quickly realized the other man was SS, due to his helmet. Probably a new promotion, due to how clean and untouched his uniform was. The markings of a Hauptsturmfuhrer.  
"Sir, this is Armin Mattias of the 1st SS Armoured Political Envoy!" The younger man offered his hand to the General. Of course, they sent the 'Hero of Berlin' who saved the Reichstag from their foe, or at least leads the men who did. Either way, if he was representing the SS, and was a soldier, not a politician than he might be a bit more agreeable than the usual SS that Jost was forced to deal with. He shook the hand of the soldier.

"A pleasure, Hauptsturmfuhrer. I heard of your accomplishments in Berlin. If we have someone of your skill here, then we should have nothing to worry about."

"Ah. I was merely the one that boosted the morale of the men. The ones that truly fought were the ones who died, for they laid down their lives. We simply survived through luck. I am not one who lays claim to the achievements of those better than I am." The two left the Major, walking along the road.

"Do you know your objective here at Fort New Berlin?" The SS soldier gave a slight nod, folding his hands behind his back.

"Indeed I do, sir. Travel along the unexplored lands around the fort, and extend the arm of kindness to the enemies of the enemy..."

The convoy lined up, preparing to set out. Armin's orders were clear, go out upon arrival and find towns. Try and get sympathizers of the Reich. The patrol was made up of a Stug III prototype, two trucks, a Kubelwagen (His command vehicle) and a Sdkfz. 10 armed with a Flak 30. This group covered all bases, air, ground and armored. The team was made up of thirty people, excluding the drivers and crewmen. About half of them were the surviving Honor Guard, the rest were other SS soldiers. Most of them were Schutze, or somewhere around that rank. His second in command was an older man by the name of Dieter Artur, a Sturmscharfuhrer. The men were all lined up next to one of the trucks. How their convoy worked was the front most truck would carry the bulk of the soldiers, along with the second in command. The one behind that would be carrying all their supplies; food, water, ammo, and trinkets to get towns on their side. The '10 would hold two regular soldiers, along with the crew and driver. The Kubelwagen would hold Armin himself, the driver, and the radioman. The Stug would take the front, no one would ride on it.

"Attention!" Artur barked as Armin approached. All the men stopped what they were doing, saluting their superior officer. Armin saluted briefly, then dropped his arm.

"At ease. Alright, gentlemen, you have all been briefed on our mission. However, I don't want to make relations worse with the natives, excluding the 'Empire' naturally. First, if an Imperial shows aggression, then detail. If he attacks, you have permission to shoot to kill. Keep your eyes open, we don't want an ambush. Secondly, I will do the talking. We will have to climb the language barrier, but I believe I may be capable of keeping things smooth. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. Everyone, get loaded up, we leave in five-"

"Herr Mattias!" A voice cut him off as the men all climbed in. The soldier turned to the approaching Major of the base. He was accompanied by two soldiers and a young woman in handcuffs.

"Yes, Herr Hubert?" He said, saluting. The Major did the same. The young woman stepped a few steps forward, but her head was dipped. She was well dressed, though the clothes looked unnatural on her, for whatever reason. Probably due to her being in handcuffs. On her right arm was a band that, instead of holding the Swastica, held the logo of the primitive Imperials. Her vibrant, blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail. He couldn't clearly see her face, do to it being hung.

"Meet your translator, Frau Marie La Sue." He said, indicating to the young woman. She didn;t respond, instead of keeping her head down.

"Why is she in handcuffs?"

"She was one of the captured soldiers. She, however, offered help in return for her freedom. She simply has to help us with our work, and she is free to return home. Marie, meet Hauptsturmfuhrer Armin Mattias!" She muttered a response. This earned her a smack on the back of her head from the Major.

"Look at the face of your officer, and speak up! he is your commander, show him respect!" She raised her head to show her face. The girl was stunningly beautiful, almost inhuman. She had glowing blue eyes and a perfect face. He could have guessed she was a perfect Aryan had it not been for the fact she was a soldier of their enemy. Her eyes held a look of both contempt and dread. She had, undoubtedly, been fiercely interrogated by the Gestapo before coming here. That meant, right off the bat, she had a bad impression of the Reich. This was, however, no concern of Armin's.

"Hello, Herr Mattias." She said, her voice holding back both rage and fear.

"They have female soldiers?" Armin asked the Major, ignoring the woman for a brief moment.

"It seems so, we need to question the captured commander on it more, but we will figure out what the meaning of that is in time. Anyways, I have other things to attend to. Good luck, Herr Mattias."

"And you, Major." The guards uncuffed the woman and then left with the Major. The woman rubbed her wrists, rubbing them. Clearly, the cuffs had been less than comfortable. She looked at Armin in fear again, only to find him looking at her in an uncaring manner. This man didn't feel one way or another about her.

"Radioman!" He waved the man over. The soldier ran up.

"Sir?"

"Escort miss... uh..."

"Marie La Sue."

"Marie to my car. You will take the passenger seat next to the driver."

"Yes, Herr Mattias." The Radioman escorted Marie away, leaving Armin. He sighed, lifting his new officer's cap up. It was the same dark gray as his gloves though had some extra markings. He fitted it on his head, walking to his car. Armin opened the back seat door, sliding in next to Marie.

"Driver, let's get this show on the road. We have to make some good time, on the double!"  
"Yes, sir." He put the Kubelwagen into gear, honking twice at the Stug. Smoke came from the back of the mighty tank, and it began to go forwards. the rest of the line followed behind. The convoy made their way down the hill, out into the plains.

\- Two hours later -

The convoy finally arrived at its first town. Armin opened the door to his car, looking out over it. The town as built into a valley. His second in command walked over, joining him.

"What is your order, sir?" Armin thought for a second. as much as he wanted to go in with the whole group as a show of strength, he didn't want to scare the peoples of this town in helping the Reich.

"You, the translator, the radioman, and two others will go down. Everyone else will wait here, but ready to move at a moment's notice."

"Yes, sir." The young Imperial girl opened her door, stepping out. The group gathered up.

"Me and Frau Marie will approach the village..."

"Elder."

"Yes, thank you. We will approach the village elder. Herr Artur, Herbert, and Joeckel will hold back with our goodies. Let's move." They made their way down. As they walked, Armin grabbed Marie's arm.

"Let me make this clear. I may not be as ruthless as the Gestapo, do not think for a moment that I won't kill you should you fight our progress, am I understood?" She pulled her arm away, taking a few steps to the left.

"Yes... sir..." She said plainly, anger and disgust in her voice. They continued to what they presumed would be the elder's home, though, Armin began to notice something. The town was empty. At least, the streets were, he would catch a person looking at them every once in a while, before ducking away when they realized they were spotted. The town was not big by any measure if Armin were to guess the population, maybe two hundred. That was being very liberal. it held around fifty buildings, maybe forty of which were homes. The rest would be businesses and an officer for the leader. The town lacked any modern infrastructure. The buildings were poorly built out of stone. It was very reminiscent of the ancient medieval buildings. This accurately contrasted with the Roman-like tactics of the Imperials and their armor. The two SS soldiers held their guns up, clearly as on edge as the civilians. Every small noise, they would swivel their gun to face it, only to find an animal, nothing, or a person peeking out.

"Lower your weapons, they're scared of us as is."

"Yes, sir." The team finally came to the last house. This one looked no different than any of the others. They had wandered the whole town, and they found absolutely no building that looked like a mayor's office.

"Well, now what, sir?" Artur asked, joining his officer and the translator. Armin took off his hat, using his other hand to neaten his hair.

"We knock." He walked up to the door, giving it three hard raps. They waited a few seconds, then the door opened. A young woman, no older than Marie, looked out. She said something in the native language, suspicion on her face.

"She is asking who you are and what you want." Armin gave a smile, offering a hand.

"Then hello, I am Hau-" A sword was aimed directly at his neck. The door had flown open, the woman aiming a sword at him. Her face was completely red with fury. Armin put his hands up in shock. The men raised their rifles at her.  
"Whoa, whoa!" Armin cried out as the sword danced a mere centimeter from his neck. The woman yelled something. However, while everyone else was treating this seriously, Marie was... laughing. She was trying hard to fight it back, but the giggles fought their way out of her. Even Artur looked amused.

"Something you wish to explain, translator?!" Armin growled out of the side of his mouth as he backed away. The woman, however, kept the blade focused on his neck. Marie sucked in more air.

"I thought you knew-" She laughed more. Armin looked to Dieter for answers.

"Sir, did you not listen when the Major briefed the two of us? He said that handshaking was a declaration of marriage here." Dieter explained with only the slightest of smirks. Armin's eyes went wide as he turned to face the woman again.

"Translator, do something! Tell her it is a greeting where I come from!" Marie quickly diffused the situation nd explained their reason for being here. Realization of who she had drawn on and who he served hit her like a freight train. She dropped the sword, falling to her knees. she put her head tot he dirt, saying something he couldn't understand. Armin once again looked to Marie for an explanation.

"She begs for your forgiveness, and is very sorry for assaulting one of the Fire Demons..." Armin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Tell her to get up and show us where the village elder is." Marie obliged and the woman got up, bowing to Armin, tears in her eyes. She said something else frantically.

"She said that perhaps the myths were wrong, and the 'demons' were, in fact, saints."

"For fuck's sake, ask the question!"

"I have!" Marie repeated it, finally snapping the woman out of her stupor. The woman wiped the tears from her eyes. She opened the door more, giving a wave of her arm.

"She says the elder is her grandfather," Marie explained. However coincidental this seemed, Armin went through with it, following the woman in. he pointed to one soldier.

"Wait here and keep your eyes open. Artur, Joeckel, on me." The group went after the woman into the dark abode. It was a small building, made up of, about, four rooms. If this was truly the home of the village leader, then this must be a pretty poor town. The elder sat in the back of the home. He looked about seventy, with a full, white beard, and no hair. He looked at the party with mixed emotions. He was wary of them, but also fearful. This was, after all, soldiers of an army that made the Empire look like children. He said something in the native tongue, which sounded defeated.

"He is asking if you are here to wipe them out like you did the Imperials." Armin raised an eyebrow and then laughed. It was gleeful, not evil, something that shocked the elderly man.

"No, no. The Reich is not a vile state. We hold no ill will towards the people forced into combat by their totalitarian leaders." The looks of fear on the man's face was replaced by relief. It was as if a weight was pulled from his shoulders. He put his forehead to the ground, at Armin's feet.

"He is thanking you." Armin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, Okay. Get up, we aren't done yet." The man looked up at him with a questioning gaze. he got back into his seat as Armin's men brought over the chest. Armin removed his hat and gloves, setting them aside. he took a seat in front of the elderly man.

"My Fuhrer has sent me with gifts as a show of good faith towards the people of this region." He explained as he searched for a key on his key ring. He put one in, turning it. The chest's locks clicked, and he opened it. The chest sat between the two, facing towards Armin. The old man couldn't see what was inside, but according to Marie's reaction, something good was in there. Inside was a number of smaller cases and lock boxes. On the other side of the chest was mounds of random riches, and trinkets from Germany. In small boxes was delicacies from around the world. The chest and goodies were worth more than, probably, the entire town, times two. He grabbed one of the lock boxes and one of the smaller cases. He set them both on the table, facing the elderly man.

"You may pick one," Armin explained, flipping through his keys. Marie translated, and the man's eyes were as big as dinner plates. He opened the lockbox, wich contained a medallion. It looked to be made of gold and an assortment of gems. Marie gaped stupidly at the piece of jewelry. Something like that was worth an incomprehensible amount of money. The old man ad his granddaughter were speechless, but, alas, the fun was only beginning. He opened the little box, and inside sat a fortune. There was, maybe, one hundred silver coins and even a few gold ones. This proved it to Marie, the Germans were the wealthiest nation in existence if they could throw golden coins around like change. The elder just fell back into his chair. It clicked together, why this nation could crush the Empire. It could fund such technological advances, allowing it to crush anything in its path. This nation probably ruled hundreds of others with its might, with its weapons.

"Take your pick. Though, if you could please hurry, we have other things to get through." The elder and the granddaughter shared looks, this wealth was probably comparable to that of the emperor himself. After a bit of thought, the old man, with shaky hands, took the money box. Armin clapped his hands, a broad smile on his face.

"Wonderful!" He closed the lockbox, throwing it in the chest with little care. He handed the man the key to the money box. The old man hugged the box to his chest, still looking at Armin with an open mouth and wide eyes. He bowed his head, crying his thanks. Armin smiled, putting a hand up.

"Sir, we aren't done yet." He reached into the bag, pulling out a small box, inside was a German delicacy. What he pulled out was commonly known as Apfel Kuchen, which translates to apple cake. It is as its sounds, an apple cake. The two divided it between them and were in heaven. The elder began to believe that these 'fire demons' were not demons, but deities the likes of this world had never seen. When struck, they lashed out like a snake, bearing their venomous fangs and taking the life of those foolish enough to do so. On the other hand, they were calm and compassionate, spreading their good will upon the people like saints. Such a combinations were the makings of an unstoppable empire.

Armin and company left, the whole town waving them goodbye. That day, the village of Tereus learned that the fire demons were not butchers, but instead saints that were in need of revenge. Armin sat in his car, leaning back.

"That went better than expected!"  
"Yes, you were only assaulted once." His radioman responded, having heard the story from one of the others.

"Quiet, you!" Marie rolled her eyes, these people holding enough power to vaporize an army with the blink of an eye acted like children amongst each other. The whole way to the next town it was nonstop talking. Armin, who had been cold and strict up to this point, just held a solid conversation with the driver and radioman all the way, and Marie was caught in the middle.

"Did you hear that the high command was about the begin distribution of the new machine pistol?" Armin asked his two soldiers. They had gotten on the topic of weaponry, primarily automatics. they had gotten into a debate over the efficiency of either a side magazine or one coming down from the gun. This got on the topic of upcoming weapons, which reminded Armin of the upcoming model of the MP series.

"Really? Have you seen it?"

"No, but I heard it was a bottom loader. Better than the MP-38 in every way, except fire rate, I think."

"Hmm. Well, I can;t wait to get my hands on one of those."

"Well, since we are lead by the 'Hero of Berlin', maybe we can get our hands on the early prototypes!" Armin gave the radioman a light punch in the arm.

"Ah! This is radioman brutality!"

"That's enough of that," Armin said with a mock seriousness.  
"Hero of Berlin?" Marie asked, stopping the group.

"Oh. Ya, I was given that title during your attack on the city." Armin fell back into his seat.

"Why is that?" And so Armin recounted the story. Though, while his two fellow soldiers were glued to the acts of heroism of the Honor Guard, and how he took command to lead the men to victory, Marie was mortified by the gory recounts of the demise of her countrymen.

"- and that is why I am never going to EVER use a rifle with that much kick EVER AGAIN."

"Plus, you're an officer, and can use an MP-38 if you want to."

"Oi, I didn't ask for input from the peanut gallery." Marie looked at Armin, thinking. This man did not look like a leader, didn't act like one, but his accounts of leadership spoke against that. If he was truly as good as he said, then she felt sorry for whoever stood in their way.

After a good night's sleep, the team was ready to move, all put into their usual spots. Marie was grateful about a few things when it came to the Germans. First, almost none of them were hitting on her, well, excluding when they drank. Second, they had unbelievably good food. She had suspected Armin was a lord of some sort, but the foods he ate on the road, and with his men, was better than anything she had ever had. Of course, the fortune he carried was more than enough to pay for these foods. Third, the odd, roll up beds that they had were extremely comfortable, and she slept like a baby. The team moved at a steady pace, going to the fourth town. The other day they hit three, including the first. Marie rested her head on his hand, looking out the window. When she had been first introduced to the 'car', she thought it was pulled by magic. She learned, quickly, that they were not such. They were powered by science and engineering. Something called 'gasoline', which was a highly flammable, black liquid. The liquid was ignited by an engine, which powered the vehicle so it can move. They were faster than a horse, dozens of horses. The one she was in was called a 'Kubelwagen', apparently. The rest were mysteries to her, like the massive, metal 'car'. It had a large snout which, from her experience in the invasion of Germany, was capable of massive explosive magics that could decimate whole formations. This one, however, missed the head the others did. It had a lower profile, with sloped on armor on top. She then noticed the trees stopped passing, they had stopped.

Armin poked his head out the window, confused. A few meters in front of them, the Stug had come to a stop. The commander had poked out, looking at something out a ways.

"Meino, what is it?!" He called, cupping his hands around his mouth. The commander turned, looking back to his officer.

"A body is on the road, wearing Imperial armor!" Armin raised an eyebrow. The last he checked, command said nothing about any other teams running around, fighting Imperials. He spun around, yeling back.

"Hey! Artur! Grab two men, we have a body!" Artur's head popped from his truck, giving Armin a thumbs up.

"You've got it!" He hopped out, walking around to the other side. He came back around, followed by two soldiers. Artur stopped at Armin's window as the two men walked past. Many other soldiers dismounted, trying to get a look. Armin didn;t tell them to get back in the trucks, curious himself. He climbed out, holding his '38.

"Think and animal got him?"

"Maybe, would make sense." Armin looked to Marie, but found her looking past the Stug. How the car was angled, it was possible to see just in front of the Stug, where the body was located. Then, something clicked in her head, her eyes widening. She looked to Armin, yelling.

"It's a trap!" She didn't get all out, though...

Rochus, one of the two soldiers sent to check the body, crouched at it. It was face up, though mostly untouched. It was the body of a younger man, his eyes closed and his mouth gaping. Gripped in his right hand was a blade, though it was loose. Rochus pulled his glove off, putting his fingers to the man's neck. He felt a heartbeat. Rochus raised an eyebrow and then got ready to yell. However, he was cut off.

"It's a trap!" The female translator yelled, making everyone perk up. Before Rochus could face the body again, it moved. The blade shot faster than he could see it. The blade met the elbow of his right arm, still outstretched over him. The blade went straight through, taking the arm completely off. He screamed, falling back as his ally unleashed a round into the Imperial's head. the body lurched back, blood splattering the dirt road. Rochus pulled his handgun, more hostiles pouring from the sides of the road. The tank commander dropped back in, the hatch closing. Rochus's ally immediately ran back around, leaving the armless soldier on his own. Yelling, the SS soldier unloaded his gun into the crowd, three of them collapsing. Then, the gun clicked. One of the Imperials tackled him to the ground, killing the soldier. The rest of the political team launched into combat, machine-gun, and rifle fire erupting. Armin held up his MP, putting down one of the Imperials going for Artur. Artur bashed a second in the face, knocking him back. He put the rifle to the face of the Imperial, pulling the trigger. The driver of Armin's car hopped out, handgun in hand. He shot down one of the hostiles who had made his way to the car. Marie, inside the car, covered her ears as the fire reached her ears. Even though she had experienced the sound, the sheer volume and how close it was made it deafening. The battle was over almost instantly, the remaining Imperials either running or surrendering. Marie stepped from the car, looking around. Her dead brethren littered the ground, blood pouring from the bullet holes. The German casualties had been two, one, Rochus, and the other, a gunner of the FlaK 30. Armin lined the Imperials up on their knees. He reloaded his handgun.

"Marie! get over here, now!" The rage in the man's vocie was clear. These Imperials had crossed him, now they would pay. As Marie walked over, Armin pulled his gloves off.

"Marie, I want you to translate." He stated the obvious, but the glazed, shocked look on Marie's face had gotten him worried. He pointed the handgun at the head of one of the soldiers.

"I want one of you to carry a message back to your supperiors, a mesage of what happens when you dare strike soldiers of the Reich." Marie quickly translating, but, finding no translation for the Reich, just said fire demons, as they knew them. The Imperial, however, did not respond to the question. he noted the armband, recognising it as the logo of the empire. His face screwed up in rage, and started screaming.

"You traitorous coward! I hope Hardy takes you to the depths of-" The gunshot from the Luger silenced him. Marie flinched, more to the man screaming at her. She wasn't a traitor... she was doing this to survive, to be free. Armin walked to the next one, who looked a lot more admant.

"How about you?" The soldier didn;t even look at Marie when she spoke.

"I would sooner die." He responded, the answer more aimed towards Armin than to Marie. Marie looked to Armin, who knew the answer was not yes. The man just shrugged, putting the gun to his forehead. He pulled the trigger, the body jumping back. Armin came to the last one, the youngest of the group. Pure, unrestrained fear was all over his face. He had tears rolling down his face. His eyes were bloodshot, whimpers and quiet cries coming from him. In most occasions, the Imperials would have taken prisoners, these demons, however, had no such things in mind. Armin seemed to relish in the executions, ad if this was paid back. The Imperial had no idea why it brought this man such unrestrained joy, but he didn't want to be the next victim of the madman. He repeated the question, and the Imperial accepted it without question. They released him, no harm done. The young man was not hurt in any way, aside from being thrown around by the soldiers.

\- New Berlin Fort -

General Rudolf Jost sat at his desk, reading over a report on the new tanks being sent through. They were made up of Panzer IIIs, primarily, with a few support vehicles and armored cars. The Reich seemed to want to test all their new toys in the new region, to see how they stacked up to the Roman-like Imperials. As he poured into the report, his door slammed open. No knock just kicked in. He looked up, anger rising. That was until he saw the look on the man's face. It was completely white, just pure fear.

"Sir, an army of 100,000 plus has amassed at the foot of the hill!"

 **\- AU -**

 **To MrLZRS: The reason so many Nazi based stories have popped up is actually, very simple.**

 **We are secretly using subliminal messages of the greatness and prosperity of the 3rd Reich and Adolf Hitler to create the next generation of completely loyal youths.**

 **...**

 **Just kidding, if you don't like the story, don't read it.**

 **:D**


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